Demigods of the Ring
by Quill-and-Parchment
Summary: For Percy, Thalia and Nico, a good Sunday afternoon is spent together with some friends, chillin' out over some Cokes and watch the Rangers beat the crap out of Yankees. NOT sent into a world where they didn't know about - in a BOX.
1. HalfBloods in a Box

**Demigods of the Ring**

_by_

_Quill-and-Parchment_

**Chapter 1 - Half-Bloods in a Box**

"Percy."

"I _know_, Thalia, okay? Just give me a second."

"You said that five minutes ago."

"Thank you for your support, Nico. It makes me feel _so_ much better."

The sound of heaving and cracking could be heard. It ended abruptly, and someone sighed in defeat.

"So…what? We're stuck?"

"…Yeah."

"Oh, this is just _perfect_! It's Sunday and I get stuck in a _box_. If you hadn't run after that Cyclops –"

"Then what are you suggesting I do, Thalia? That freaking monster nearly ate the kid!"

"Let _me_ shoot it because I happen to have a _bow_? And twenty-six _arrows_ in my quiver?"

"Guys –"

"Who is shouting profanities at the TV because the Rangers scored and didn't pay half an ounce of attention to everything that went on around her? I tried to get your attention three times and you flipped me the bird two times, remember?" Tempers were running high.

"Oh, that's _it_. Where's my spear?" Yes, very high indeed.

"Guys, hey, guys…"

"You wanna go? Might as well. I need to get some steams off."

"Get ready to get beaten to a pulp by a girl, _Seaweed Brain_!"

"Bring it on, Pinecone Face."

"Shut it!" the third voice said harshly, and they all fell silent. For a long moment, they strained their ears to listen to what the third had detected. It was awhile, but the unmistakable sound of thumping footsteps and cracking twigs underfoot soon came to them. All quarrels forgotten, the three children of the Big Three grasped their weapons and prepared as much as they could in the crammed space of the wooden crate they were locked in.

If it comes to real fighting, however, they would have to count on Thalia's spear. There was not even enough room for all three to move around without shoving their elbows into each other's faces, and hers was the only thing tall enough that requires minimum movement to use. Not to mention that Thalia was a girl and Huntress; Percy swore Artemis's I-am-an-eternal-maiden attitude had started to rub off on his once carefree friend, because now Thalia was a bit wary of touch between them.

They have expected the lid above them to slide open any second now, seeing as the footsteps had gotten very close to them. What they _didn't_ expect, though, was for the crate to fall onto its side, sending both Thalia and Percy on top of Nico, and for the _bottom_ of their prison to open.

Tense seconds passed with no sound whatsoever. All three of them were painfully aware of their vulnerable position. Nico was squished underneath Thalia and Percy, and neither of _them_ could maneuver to attack effectively in any way, shape or form. It sent tingles of fear down their spines. They were half-bloods and warriors. They didn't like feeling vulnerable.

"Can I…help you?" a voice asked carefully, bordering between wariness and amusement. It came from the direction of their feet.

Percy and Thalia exchanged a glance, then looked at Nico for his opinion. The son of Hades was, however, too occupied with being squished by two near-invincible demigods (each in their own senses) to give anything more than a halfhearted glare. Thalia bit her lip to fight off a grin and raised her head.

"Yes!" she called. "Can you please help us out?"

"_Pull_ us out, she means," Percy added.

Silence. Then, "All right, all right. Give me a second, if you will." There were shuffling noises, then Thalia's ankles were grabbed in a strong grip and she was pulled out. It wasn't the most dignified way of making your way out of a box, but when you are trapped in a crate with the lid on the bottom, it was the best you could manage.

Percy followed on his own, now that there was enough room for him to move around. He flashed Nico a silent apology before backing his way out of the box. Nico didn't take his revenge on the way out, not that it would work anyway. The aftereffects of having to fight big bad and immortal deities could be nice after all.

The son of Poseidon squinted in the sudden, blinding sunlight. He blinked several times before he could get used to it, then turned to Thalia. She was talking to their savior – or who he guessed was their savior – who appeared to be a midget. Percy looked at him for a moment, noted his short stature, his white hair and his bespectacled face before deciding he wasn't going to kill them and checked out his surroundings.

"We're not in New York anymore, I'm afraid," Nico remarked quietly. Percy glanced at him and then the sceneries. He was right, the son of Poseidon realized. They were standing on a wide dirt road with endless green plains on their right and a thick forest to their left. In the distance, Percy could spot what looked like stone houses. The air smelled – fresh. Fresher than he'd ever smelled it anywhere, save for maybe Ogygia, Calypso's island. Next to them was a wooden cart, and on it, many crates and straws. Pulling the cart was a horse.

Percy felt a little bit better. His father was the Lord of Horses, after all, and so he could talk to them. _Hey_, he told the animal. It snorted, turning its head to give him a long look.

_Hello_, it responded at last, in a feminine voice. Well, no, Percy supposed he could not say _feminine_. Thoughts don't have voices. But he could tell that the horse was a she.

_So where are we?_ Percy asked. Again, she gave him a long look, this time with a touch of strangeness.

_Why, we are in North Farthing, of course,_ she said like that was supposed to be obvious. _Where else do you think we are? Gondor?_

Percy blinked. _Where is Gondor? And where's North Farthing?_ It wasn't on any map he'd read from before, but it might be because he kept falling asleep in geography and missed it somewhere. It wasn't as if it could be help; Mr. Bankers wasn't exactly the most exciting teacher he'd ever seen. That'd been Chiron, and Percy had faith nobody would beat the old centaur for that title.

_The Shire,_ the horse responded. Her voice suddenly turned suspicious. _Are you one of those Outsiders?_

_Well –_

"Percy!"

Percy tore his eyes from the mare to glance at Thalia, who was beckoning him over. She'd apparently finished talking to the owner of the horse, seeing as this was probably his cart, and was walking toward him rapidly. The serious look on her face told him there was something _very_ wrong. Not as if he didn't know already.

"Do you happen to know where North Farthing is?" Thalia asked.

"In the Shire," Percy replied. When Thalia stared at him, he added quickly, "Don't look at me. I got that second-handed." He glanced at the mare, who snorted again. Thalia nodded her understanding and glanced at Nico, who was inspecting their surroundings with a suspicious look in his eyes.

When he turned to them, Thalia asked him the same question as she had Percy. He shook his head. "I don't know either," he said reluctantly. "I have never heard of North Farthing, but the Shire sounded…familiar somehow. I'm just not sure _where_ I have heard of it before."

Percy glanced at the mare, who cocked her head in a way to express curiosity. "Well, do you mind remembering it a little faster? I would appreciate it if I know where we are and how far we are from my house. Paul will kill me if I get his brand new car trampled on or lost again," he urged.

"Artemis is also charging me with watching the Hunt," Thalia added her two cents. There was a flicker of annoyance on her face, but it disappeared just as quickly. "I mean, I don't believe they will cause major disaster or anything, but still…" She trailed off. Percy was reminded of the time, only three days ago, how the Hunt had basically blown a mighty big hole in the Ares cabin because someone accidentally brushed their hand against one of the Hunters' chest. Chiron had been angry, but there was no helping it. Good thing Artemis had enough patience and respect to hear the entire story out. But he could see Thalia's worry.

Nico waved his hand impatiently. "I know, I know. Just let me think." His eyes focused on something behind them, and the other two's eyes narrowed. They knew who he was looking at, and they were pretty much having the same idea. When you are a demigod and you wake up got trapped in a box, then freed my a complete stranger (midget or not) to find that you are trapped in the middle of nowhere, you ought to be distrustful.

"He's our only source of help now," Thalia said simply. "We should tell him that we're lost, then wait until we get our hands on a world map, at least. We can figure our way from there."

"Or we can send an Iris message to Chiron," Nico replied bluntly. "Easier and less time-wasting. Now, do any of you have drachmas?"

Thalia and Percy exchanged a glance.

"Right," Percy butted in while Nico's eyes rolled to the heavens. "Midget guy it is."

"Excuse me," the voice behind them said, sounding insulted. "Did you folks just call me a _midget_?"

The three of them turned, startled. "We didn't mean to insult you," Nico said quickly, frowning. "Forgive us –"

He was cut off by the midget. "I am no _midget_!" the little man spluttered indignantly. "I am a hobbit, I will have you know! I am neither crippled nor disabled!" He crossed his arms over his chest. "And who are _you_? Just what are you doing in my cart?"

Percy glanced at the other. Once again, it was Nico who stepped up. He was, frankly, the most diplomatic of them all when the time comes. Probably because he traveled so much, Percy assumed.

"We have no idea," Nico replied carefully. "As we've said before, we didn't know that you are a…hobbit." His brow furrowed, as though the term triggered something. "We're sorry."

The midget – no, _hobbit_ – stared at each of them individually for a long moment and Percy was reminded of his horse, but then he nodded, his face softening. "Right. Well, I couldn't really blame you, I guess. Not many have seen us these days, I'm afraid. And you are the Big Folk, after all." He turned to grab the reins of the mare before turning to look at them quizzically. "But who _are_ you? I have never seen attires like that before." His eyes held the slightest hint of disapproval when they rested on Thalia's casual clothes – or more accurately, her jeans. But then he turned his eyes to Percy, and the moment was over.

That didn't really make sense. They were wearing what every single teenager out there was wearing – well, except for the tribes in Amazon Jungle or something – so why was he puzzled? Now that he said it, Percy noted that the midget man (_hobbit_! He must remember that) was not in the most modern of clothes either. He was wearing a button-up white shirt that looked like it was from…Renaissance time? Covering his legs was a pair of breeches. His feet – hairy, large feet – were left bare.

Percy was proud that his eyebrows didn't go up at this. Didn't they have shoes out for even the humblest of people right about then? He thought the world had gone past the point where even the poor people had to go barefoot on dirt road (unless you are in Africa, and that's probably going to take years to fix). And besides, the man (_hobbit!_) didn't look as though he couldn't afford it. His white shirt was brand new, by the look of it. So were the rest of his clothes and belongings. The mare wasn't grumbling, which meant she was well-taken care of.

From the look of things, with the background to boots, the hobbit looked like something straight out from a medieval fantasy movie.

Weird.

"…far away." Nico was speaking again, and Percy forced his attention from the hobbit back to his friend. "I believe we were…kidnapped."

Maybe that wasn't too far from the truth. They certainly hadn't come here by choice, wherever _here_ was. That could be considered as kidnapping, Percy guessed, though he'd rather preferred the term _teleported_. If his parents ever heard about this…

The hobbit looked at them up and down for several more seconds before nodding slowly, the last of his suspicion fading away, replaced by what was akin to sympathy. "Ah, I see," he said. "You three are still quite young to boot! I have no idea how or why you ended up in _my_ cart, but let it be known I do not let lost children wander about. Come! Let us ride home. We can talk more on the way."

He settled on the bench in front of the cart and beckoned them to climb in. The three half-bloods exchanged a glance. _Should we?_ Nico asked quietly.

Percy shrugged. _What choice do we have?_ This "hobbit" hadn't transformed into some nasty cannibal and tried to eat them yet at any rate, and they would be constantly wary just as they did when they were back home. They haven't survived a major war and little fights all over the place for nothing.

They made their way to the cart and climbed on, all sitting with the crates and looking at the driver with the slightest trace of suspicion in their eyes. It still unsettled them, this place, and as Nico returned to his mulling trying to figure out where they were, Percy glanced around the countryside. The hobbit seemed to be correct about them wearing strange clothes in this place. The few farmers out on the field and children they saw all wore clothes similar to him: Renaissance-style clothes that didn't look like they were made for Halloween.

"I'm Drego Brandybuck by the way," the hobbit said. "And who might you be? It is not polite to leave your helpers in the dark about your identities, isn't it?"

"Thalia," Thalia said distractedly from the front as she tried to figure out why another of these "hobbits" were glaring at her from his field of what looked like…tobacco?

"Percy Jackson," the son of Poseidon replied. Seeing as Nico was still deep in thought, Percy decided to help him out. "The kid is Nico di Angelo."

Drego twisted in his seat, blinking at Percy in surprise. "Kid?" he asked, looking around. "Where?"

Percy frowned. He gestured toward Nico. "Here. This kid."

Unfortunately, the hobbit's puzzlement only grew. "He is no kid," Drego protested. "He is a boy!"

"Yeah. That's what I said. He's a kid!"

Drego frowned. "I am sure we are not on the same page here, good Master Percy. Your friend is surely not a goat!" he objected. At this, both Thalia and Nico glanced up at them, perplexity in their gaze. They looked at Percy, who shrugged. He, too, was confused. Why was he mistaking Nico for a goat?

"What's with me and a goat?" Nico asked, frowning.

_"I am introducing you," Percy replied. "Since you're so focused on jogging that ancient memory of yours and all."_

Nico glared at him. Thalia shrugged and returned to watching the scenery while keeping half an eye on Drego, who was still looking at Percy as though he was weird. "I'm Nico," the son of Hades said, still glaring at his friend.

"Yes, yes, I heard that first time around," Drego waved his hand impatiently. "What I want to know is, why did your friend here call you a _kid_?"

Nico blinked. Well, technically, he was eighty-two or eighty-three years old by now, but if you take out his non-aging years, then…"I _am_ a kid, I guess," he admitted. Uncharacteristic of him, really, but Nico was starting to enjoy it when the adults got a shock for seeing how the "Goth kid" could stand up for himself.

Drego stared at them both. Then he turned around to the road and shook his head. The Big Folk. One could never know how those funny heads of theirs operated. Calling a boy a young goat, indeed!

* * *

_In case you didn't get the joke, a young goat was known as a kid. I don't have any reason to believe that the people of Middle-Earth use that slang for "children", so wa-la, from that stemmed out this joke. I've seen it somewhere before...although I can't remember where. Either way, the mention of this was not copyrighted to me._

_ Unfortunately, I can't find any cross-over in the PJO/LotR section that I can actually tolerate, so I was forced to write my own. Yes, I'm vain and picky beyond belief, but this idea had been cooking up in my brain for awhile. First intended as a one-shot, but it just can't fit in._

_ Enjoy._


	2. On the Way to Town

**Chapter 2 - On the Way to Town**

As Drego, the hobbit – which, as far as Nico cared, was a race of midgets lacking the usual awkwardness in walking – showered Percy and Thalia with enough questions for him to fill out biographies for them both, Nico remained silent. He didn't like talking unless necessary, although he was an acknowledged expert at lying, and occupied his mind with finding out _where_ exactly they were.

The terms mentioned by Drego triggered something, yes, but for the demigod life of him, Nico couldn't figure out _what_. He'd heard all of them before, but the details to where and when he heard it, along with under what circumstances, remained mysteriously blurry. Nico was starting to suspect that some other deities were tampering with his memory, because he rarely forgot anything. Not that unlikely, seeing as his own dad eliminated everything from his youngest years.

Luckily for Nico, this wasn't the type of magical, hard to undone I-won't-let-you-see-that thing did by the gods. It was plain simple forgetfulness. And Nico was growing frustrated.

"Figured anything out yet?" Percy asked suddenly as though he'd read his mind. Nico hoped to Hades it wasn't so. Percy already had a list of superpowers already. No need to add to it.

"Nope," he replied, his voice a little sharp. "It's not easy to remember a tiny detail when you're so busy over the years, you know."

Percy held up a hand in a peacemaking gesture. "Hey, don't get cranky. I'm just trying to make conversations." He glanced at Drego, at the surrounding fields and the occasional little people all looking at them like they were some strange sort of exotic animals getting transported from the zoo, then lowered his voice.

"What do you think of all this?" Percy asked.

"It's either Hecate's idea of vengeance for the dish I broke in her cavern last month or Morpheus trying to get back at Artemis for calling him a dreamy-eyed idiot," Nico answered.

Thalia, who had not joined their conversation, turned to them at this with a frown. "So this might not be real?"

"Possibly," Nico shrugged. Morpheus _was_ the god of dreams after all, and it would be stupid to put past him the ability of making dreams so realistic that it was impossible to tell if it was really a dream.

Percy looked like he was in deep thoughts. "I don't think this is a dream," he said eventually, looking from Thalia to Nico, his green eyes serious and convinced. "It doesn't feel like it."

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Well, of course it doesn't! If Morpheus wanted us to get lost in some dream-world of his and suffer for what we _didn't_ do – what _I_ didn't do – he would've made it really realistic –"

"Greetings, Master Drego!" cried a cheerful new midget a distance from their wagon not far up the road. Nico leaned forward to see this new character more clearly. He was about the same height as Drego himself but looked younger with straw-colored curly hair that hung down to his eyes and a round, boyish face. Like Drego, he was also barefoot and wore what looked like the things Peter Penvensie was wearing in that Narnia film.

Thalia immediately quieted at the new arrival, and instinctively the three guests spread out, each sitting as close to the wagon's edge as they could without seeming suspicious, their hands resting casually on their pockets. It seemed to be needless caution, however, as the happy hobbit came close enough to greet Drego person to person.

He and Drego shook hands. "A good day to you as well, Master Gamgee," the older hobbit said pleasantly.

"How are you doing?" Master Gamgee said brightly. "The road not to treacherous for you, I hope. The folk down there is a queer one indeed. We were a tiny bit worried when you didn't come back last week. But not me, Mister Drego! Not me! I know in my heart that you could take care of business well if not quickly."

Drego grinned. "It is good to know that some people have such faith in me, Master Gamgee, especially in these times. As it is, I brought back presents for the children. If you can, then come to my hole some time next week and we can have some conversation over second breakfast. I am sure young Sam would love what I have for him." He winked at Master Gamgee, then gestured to his wagon. "And see what extra special souvenirs I've got!"

Master Gamgee, who until then had his sole attention on the other hobbit and not seeing the half-bloods (who, in all truth, had stooped to avoid detection) now turned to them curiously. His eyes widened as he spotted the freeloaders, then took on the suspicion Drego had exhibited when he first met them.

"The Big Folk!" Master Gamgee exclaimed. "And young children, nonetheless! What _are_ they doing here, Mister Drego?"

Percy and Thalia tensed visibly at this, but luckily for them, Drego was more considerate than that. "An interesting story," he said nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "Hardly the time for it. But do tell me, Master Gamgee, how is Hobbiton doing?" His voice suddenly grew serious, and Master Gamgee's attention was once again drawn to him.

"Can we talk on the way?" the new hobbit proposed, glancing at the sky. The sun was starting to sink as afternoon approached.

"By all means, yes! Climb on!" Drego patted the seat next to him on the bench. Master Gamgee tossed what seemed like the only three characters of normal height around there a final curious and wary look before accepting the invitation. Soon they were moving again.

Now that Drego had found himself somebody else to be occupied with, Nico returned his attention to the matter at hand. "This is bad," he said. "_Really_ bad. Do _any_ of you have any mean to contact camp? Or somewhere that can help us figure where in Zeus's name we are? 'Cause if you depend on my memory, it might take awhile."

Thalia shook her head. "If this is really a god's way to take revenge on us," Percy added, "then I don't think camp's gonna be able to help us much. It's like a quest; we're on our own."

"Brilliant," Thalia said morosely, even though they all knew Percy had a point. She glared at a pointing girl standing in the field to the cart's left. The girl squealed and ran toward the hobbit-woman not far away, who glared at Thalia in disgust.

Nico coughed. "I think that girl classifies as a 'maiden'," he muttered.

The Hunter swiveled her glare to him. "Your point?"

"Anyway, I don't think this is a dream," Percy broke in swiftly before Nico could say anything else. They already had enough on their hands as it was; all of them could go without a petty argument between a quick-tempered daughter of Zeus and a prickly son of Hades. "It's way too real for that, and before _you_ say anything, Thalia, I've had enough experiences with dreams to tell if this is one or not. It just...doesn't have this..._feel_ to it."

Thalia looked at him. "Should your instinct be trusted?" she asked, slightly skeptically.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Could you contradict it? And by the way, you're talking a little bit like Zoë Nightshade nowadays, you know."

"Do not," Thalia retorted. Her face then grew serious. "If this isn't some fancy dreams created by Morpheus, then we can only assume we're really in a different place, and that we've been sent here. But by whom? And what _are_ we here for?"

"Angry immortal trying to punish us?" Percy guessed.

"Nice try, Seaweed Brain, but not good enough. According to Nico, he's the one who'd been trifling with Hecate. Why should you and I be pulled into this too?" Thalia used her hand to gesture at Percy and then Nico. "Besides, don't you see something odd here?"

Percy stared at her blankly. Nico seemed to be thinking, then clicked his fingers, his eyes widening. "Why're the children of the Big Three involved in this? And together, too."

Thalia nodded her approval. "Exactly. Something's fishy here. I just hope it's not like the last time with your stepmom's sword and all that Underworld crap." She shivered as if she was having a recollection about the time all three of them have been dragged into the Underworld by none other than Persephone, goddess of springtime, Nico's stepmother and Hell Bringer to them all.

Percy's eyes darkened. He hadn't come out of that pain-free and unaffected either. To be exact, he was poisoned by a monster and spent the better part of the trip passing out and writhing in agony. Well, not literally _writhing_, but it was something Percy had really rather not talk about at all, if he could help it. As far as his parents were concerned, he got called to duty by a Dryad to help her get a hostile hellhound out of her tree.

But Nico and Thalia were right. This _was_ fishy, and the three sat in somber silence as they considered the possibilities. None of them looked good, none inviting, and none looked even relatively _okay_.

"Well, we know that we aren't in the Underworld," Percy said at last, breaking the silence. He glanced at the hobbits. They've fallen silence, but they didn't appear to be listening. Master Gamgee wasn't giving them any weird looks. It looked as though they were trapped in their own concerns. "But how did we get here in the first place. I remember it involves a Cyclops eating a kid, but..." he trailed off, frowning in puzzlement.

Nico chewed his lip as he recognized the problem. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I know that it's Friday, your mom invited us to your house to get a break, Thalia was shouting at the TV, _you_ were sitting there inhaling the cookies -"

"Hey! I didn't _inhale_ them!"

"- and I'm checking my sword. Then suddenly Ms. Jackson was running into the living room yelling about a Cyclops outside the door. You tried to get Thalia's attention while I go out in the hall to check it out, and then..." Nico frowned. It ended there. So abruptly that it felt unsettling.

Thalia nodded, her eyes narrowed. "I remember grabbing my bow and getting cranky with Percy, and then the next thing we know you had your hair in my nostrils."

Nico looked positively disgusted. He ran a hand over his hair in a vain search for immortal maiden's booger. Percy bit his lip to stop a grin. "You're right. I remember racing to the doorway and spotting the Cyclops with the kid, but nothing else." He looked at the wooden planks between the three of them. "If I can find a Naiad or something, maybe I can ask for directions where we are. The horses can be of help, too. And Nico can summon the dead to get the message across."

The youngest half-blood gazed at him. "Well, that's sound proof that Perseus Jackson indeed have possession of a brain," he commented with a tiny grin, then turned to the front. "Looks like we got to town."

Percy and Thalia followed his gaze. They were riding past a couple of houses, then from there the land went downhill, so it was easy for them to see what was below: vast lands and hills and little wooden houses occupied by hobbits, hobbits and even more hobbits. They were everywhere, tending the gardens, children running about, leading horses and other farm animals, etc. But the thing that almost every single one of them was doing was eating.

Wherever Percy looked, he saw at least ten hobbits out of a crowd of approximately fifteen chewing on something-or-other. Apples, cakes, buns...you name the junk food, they've got the junk food. They even saw a few biting down on roasted fish-on-a-stick. Many if not all of them stared at the half-bloods the same way Master Gamgee had, but a lot longer and with no secrecy at all. Most of the hobbits even pointed and whispered. Percy's cheeks flushed pink and he turned away, leaning against the crate behind him and tried to appear as casual as possible. Thalia sat ramrod-straight, her eyes hard, while Nico looked evidently uncomfortable at the attention.

Unlike with Master Gamgee, however, Drego did nothing to re-route the attention elsewhere. Instead, he only gave them disdainful looks before urging the horse to go faster. Soon they rode past the crowded area and into what could probably pass for quiet back-alleys, except they were still exposed to grass and greenery. In Hobbiton, there seemed to be no houses or buildings built right next to each other that Percy could see. They were all spaced out, not evenly but in a way that ensured that each house manage to get some breathing space. To someone who'd spent all his life in noisy and cramped Manhattan, it gave Percy an air of calmness. If only those hobbit-guys _stop_ staring at him, things would be perfect.

Maybe being thrown into this place wasn't so bad after all.

The cart rolled to a stop in front of a house far off from the others. Master Gamgee climbed down. "Thanks much for the ride, Mister Drego," he said to the other hobbit with a grin. "I will see you again soon. Sam is growing out of his clothes by the day, I tell you!"

Drego chuckled and raised a hand in farewell. "It is no surprise. They grow up so fast. A good day to you, Master Gamgee. I have other businesses to take care of."

"A good day to you, too, Mister Drego." Once again, Master Gamgee shot the cart's occupants an odd look before he hurried to the house and opened the round door, stepping inside. Drego started the cart moving again, and soon they also left their passenger's house behind as they went up and down some more hills, moving further and further away from center of "Hobbiton", as Drego had called it, and toward what must be the outskirt of town.

By now all three demigods had grown slightly apprehensive again after being faced with so many stares by so many midgets. Percy knew for certain he was going to stoop whenever he goes to town the next time.

"You should not let them get to you," Drego said, his voice light. "They do not usually see a lot of oddities around here." He glanced at them apologetically. "Well, I do not mean you as _oddities_, if you catch my meaning. But yes, they have not seen anything taller than a dwarf for awhile now. Seeing one of the real Big Folk must be shocking for them, let alone three."

"We don't want to cause you any trouble..." Nico started hesitantly, but Drego waved his hand.

"Oh, don't you worry. Suspecting me or not, they would not do anything to me. I am the best tailor in town after all." He winked at them. "Now, let us get you something that would help you divert the stares - even if only by a little." Once again Drego pulled them into a stop in front of another house with the same structures as Master Gamgee's, except this one was much bigger and two-storied.

Drego nodded toward the house. "Wait for me here. I shall come back soon, and then we can talk a little more about yourselves over a hot cup of tea."


	3. Midnight Stroll

**Chapter 3: Midnight Stroll**

Thalia Grace gazed out the window in silence, contemplating their current situation. She had not been sent here with bad company, that much she was thankful for. Although she had little to no contact with Nico – her only solo mission with him being the time when Persephone had summoned the children of the Big Three to the Underworld and Percy was out most of the trip – Thalia knew him well enough to agree that he was trustworthy. She could not bring herself to doubt Percy. He was many things, but he was first and foremost a loyal and capable friend.

Outside the window, the silver moon hung high in the dark sky. Its light bled into the room, intensifying Thalia's glow. Just like she had in the recent years, Thalia could feel her mind calm underneath the moonbeam. Whether it was Artemis's magic or it was just her, the Hunter appreciated its presence.

Her eyes flickered from the window to the silver tiara resting on the nightstand. She'd worn it so often that she hardly ever noticed its existence anymore. It was part of her identity now, and Thalia figured out that maybe it was _because_ of the tiara that the hobbits have been staring at her as she rode into town, coupled with the fact that she wore pants and held herself like a fighter.

Speaking of hobbits…where were they? Nico said it was familiar, all these things, and Thalia knew he wasn't lying, but he hadn't been able to give them a clear answer as to where they were either. Percy had declared that this was no dream, and strangely enough, even in this Thalia was quite willing to trust him. Due to Annabeth, Thalia knew that Percy had had chronic prophetic dreams before, and they were always correct.

It was quite obvious what time period they were in. The way the people around here spoke and how they dressed were proofs of that. This sort of reminded Thalia of the cheesy books about girls/guys falling into other worlds and such, most profoundly Narnia. But somehow Thalia wasn't entirely convinced that they were going to be kings or queens. Half-blood royalties had always been a bad thing throughout history.

For the immediate presence, there seemed to be no harm coming for them, so Thalia was inclined to stay right where she was. Drego Brandybuck was quite a nice guy, even though she found his hospitality suspicious. But he might just trying to be kind to them, and he'd also given them quarters and food. That was a lot more than most "kind" people were willing to give. Besides, Thalia sensed no harm or unease when she was around the old hobbit, and she trusted her instincts a little more than facts.

Half an hour, and then one, and then two passed, and still Thalia lied awake. Finally, unable to contain herself any longer, she leaped out of bed and pulled on the silver jacket she'd tossed onto the back of a chair not far from her bed. Being careful not to step on Percy's face (they were, sadly, only provided with one bedroom), Thalia threw the piece of garment on along with the silver tiara, put on her boots and escaped the room with enough stealth to escape even a lion's senses.

The house was absolutely quiet and dark. Thalia stood in the doorway for a few seconds to wait for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before moving again. She crossed the living room and the kitchen before finding herself standing in front of the main door. With another pause, Thalia pushed it open and stepped outside.

After the time spending in the house, Thalia was glad for the cool night air that assaulted and chilled her skin. She stood just outside the entrance, eyes closed, and focused on enjoying the breezes. When they finally died down, Thalia closed the door behind her and headed toward the forest. She would be back before sunrise, and she seriously doubted any of the boys would wake before then. It was natural that demigods wake up screaming every now and then in the middle of the night, but since the Second Titan War, things have died down considerably.

Besides, they certainly wouldn't worry too much. Thalia could handle herself in (almost) any situation, and she'd had more experience than either of them one way or another. A few wolves or monsters wouldn't be so much of a bother to her – and somehow she doubted they got Cyclopes or _dracaenaes_ around here.

The woods weren't thick, instead being filled more with low but crowded weeds and grasses rather than clusters of trees growing close together. The moonlight provided Thalia with adequate vision, so she wasn't exactly panicking about her footfalls. She'd done this before. In fact, she remembered a night almost exactly like this, with the same environment. Just different company.

It had been the first time Thalia truly got to know Phoebe, the Hunter who was selected for the quest of saving Artemis but was ambushed by Travis and Connor Stoll of the Hermes cabin and was forced to stay home. The Persian girl (yes, she was that old) was more or less wary toward Thalia the first few weeks they hung around each other for some reason. One day they've gone tracking a monster in the dark, alone, and that endeavor had not been quite as peaceful or fruitful as either of them had hoped. In fact, Phoebe had nearly lost an arm had Apollo not been paying a surprise visit to them that night.

Thalia shuddered at the memory, then forced herself to concentrate on something else. If there was a time to mope about past mistakes, _this_ wasn't it. She took this walk to clear her mind, not make herself more miserable. Absently, Thalia kicked a pebble and sent it flying into one of the undergrowths.

She kept walking aimlessly, her hands hidden in her jacket's pockets. Thalia was alone. Nothing was there except for the rustling of leaves and the occasional hooting owls and the breezes. It was the sort of peace she rarely experienced, and it was much appreciated. Eventually Thalia lost track of the landscape and just walked because she _could_. The risk of getting lost didn't even appear to her.

_Achoo!_

Thalia's foot, which was already held forward in a half-step, froze immediately. The forest's serenity fled in a second as she identified and located the sound while simultaneously drawing her bow and an arrow from the quiver that had just appeared on her back. Less than a second later, the silver missile was buried deep in a tree ten meters to her left, still shaking from the impact.

"Who's there?" Thalia barked harshly, knocking another arrow. Now the forest was quiet, but too quiet. It was unnatural – and there was a certain tenseness in the air that warned of distress. Thalia hadn't misheard. There was _something_ there. Or, as she was growing more and more convinced, some_one_.

With the silence surrounding them, it wasn't awfully hard for Thalia to hear the panting. She lowered her bow a fraction and let it loose. It sailed into the bush right beneath the tree, eliciting surprised and frightened cries. Two shadows leaped into the air. By the time they realized their mistakes, two arrows had already been notched onto the silver bow and were being pointed at them.

They were hobbits, Thalia's brain supplied. Dressed in white shirts, breeches and thin jackets (and wielding the faces of terrified rabbits), they presented as much threat as two walking hotdogs – and Thalia _had_ faced walking hotdogs before. She lowered her bow a fraction, but a fraction only.

"Who're you?" she demanded.

The hobbits glanced at each other, but remained silent. Too scared to talk, maybe?

Without warning, Thalia loosed the other two arrows, letting them thud against the tree trunk about two inches above each of the hobbits' head. She drew another two while they were being too terrified to move.

"We're just civilians!" one said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "We didn't mean any harm, truly!"

"We're just on a midnight stroll," the other agreed. Then he frowned. "But say, what are _you_ doing out here? You are the lady who came with old Drego this morning, aren't you? Why are you out here?"

Thalia remained quiet as she calculated the hobbits' trustworthiness. Then she lowered the bow and returned it to her quiver, along with her arrows. Still, one hand lingered on the bone handle of the hunting knife she wielded, hidden by her jacket. The danger had passed, but the result was paranoia. Even though there was no logical reason why the hobbits would want to mess with her after what she'd done, Thalia wasn't too inclined on trusting them completely.

"Perhaps we have gotten on the wrong foot here," the first hobbit spoke again. His face was less white now that Thalia's bow had been put away. He gestured to himself. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service." And he bowed, then added, "But just call me Merry, if you will."

The other looked at Thalia a second longer before following suit. "Peregrin Took," he announced, bowing. "At your service. I go by Pippin."

For a long second, Thalia glanced back and forth between these two new characters. Finally, she gave them a curt nod. "Thalia," she said, feeling herself calming down more and more with each passing moment. "I guess you're right. You sort of startled me." In the nicest and most subtle of terms, that is. If she'd been more accurate, Thalia would say they freaked her out.

With the danger gone, the two hobbits seemed slightly more inclined toward friendliness. "Thalia, you say?" Merry said, well, merrily. He leaned against the tree behind him. "That is a strange name. I have never heard of it before."

"You have great aim," Pippin commented, glancing warily at the silver arrows still embedded in the trunk. "Excellent aim, one might say." Then he looked at Thalia up and down, and she got the distinctive feeling he was judging her appearance. Well, not that she truly cared.

Both of their eyes were currently flickering from her face to something atop her head. The tiara, she thought. They were staring at her tiara.

Thalia crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto one leg, growing increasingly uncomfortable. Getting going now would be good.

Before Thalia could speak, however, Pippin beat her to it. "What are you doing out this late?" he asked. "I thought old Drego always locked the door after dark. Did he know you were here?"

"I'm out for a midnight walk, like you guys. I don't know if Drego locked the door or not, but you see, I'm here, so obviously it _wasn't_ locked. No, he didn't know. Otherwise I would've known if the door was locked or not." Thalia strode forward and yanked the arrows out of the tree trunks. She was feeling like she needed to make a quick retreat. This was the first time she'd actually spoken to people of this land, and somehow this wasn't as enjoyable as she'd tried to imagine it would be. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to come back to Drego's before my friends wake up and find me gone."

She returned the arrows to her quiver, glanced over her shoulder at the two startled hobbits one last time before hurrying away without looking back.

By the time she reached the house, the moon had already vanished. It was as if it had only stayed out long enough to guide her home. The door wasn't lock, thank Zeus, and she came inside, kicked off her boots by the door instead of bringing them into the room, then walked quietly back to the bedroom.

It came into sight pretty quickly, but when Thalia grabbed the handle and was about to turn it, the door swung open to reveal a disheveled-looking Percy in the way.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Percy blew out a sigh of relief. "Where were you?" he asked in a soft whisper, stepping aside to let her in. "I thought you've gone AWOL on us."

"Taking a walk," Thalia replied as she came in, also in a whisper. If Percy wasn't talking loudly, then Nico was most likely still sleeping. She took off her jacket and slung it over the back of the chair again, then climbed back into bed. "It's nothing," she told her friend. "Go back to sleep."

Percy raised an eyebrow, but he complied. Thalia listened to the sound of rustling blankets, and then silence fell. She lied still, listening to the owls outside and the eventual even breathing of her friends on either sides of the bed. She'd kicked them off and taken the bed for herself when they were still arguing about who gets to sleep on it and whether they should be taking turns or not. In the darkness, Thalia grinned. Boys were such idiots sometimes. Even Luke had had his happy and carefree times.

Those days on the road running from monsters and the like weren't the safest in her life, but Thalia enjoyed them the most. It was the first time she'd truly experienced friendship and the sweetness of it, of having company in dark or stormy nights or when she was about to die. It was because of that, after all, that she'd chosen to die. They were worth it. They were worth so much more. Annabeth and Luke.

But the one person in her life who she truly loved was already dead and gone. At least he died a hero's death, and Thalia had sworn into the Hunt not only because she wanted peace, but because she wanted to stay loyal to him until the very end.

Thalia was a Hunter now. She was forbidden to have romantic feelings toward the opposite sex, and she had no problem living up to that vow. It was she who'd spoken it after all, and Thalia was fully willing to keep her words. But maybe, in this world, it was alright…to simply remember. There was no harm in that, wasn't there? And the dead does not come back. Even if she loved him with all her heart, he would remain dead. And she would love no one else. Ever.

Eventually, the Huntress drifted off into a peaceful sleep, dreaming about times long past.

0o0o0o0o0

The sound of the door opening caught Thalia's attention. She sat upright, her hand already reaching out to rest on the sheathed knife sitting on the nightstand, but it was only Drego coming in to check on them. He blinked in shock at Thalia's reaction, but then smiled and held up something in his arms. "Perfect timing, Miss Thalia!" he said jovially. "I was about to ask your opinion on this dress!"

Thalia blinked at the hobbit uncomprehendingly. Then it hit her. "Dress?" she inquired incredulously. When Drego nodded, she exclaimed with profound disbelief and disgust, "_Dress_?"

"Why yes, my dear," the old hobbit said, confused. "You are a lady. Therefore it is only proper for you to wear a dress, no?"

Thalia opened her mouth to say something _very_ bad, but a sleepy grunt interrupted her. "Do you mind turning the volume down?" Nico muttered, irritated. "It's way too early in the morning, if you don't mind." She leaned over the edge of the bed to glare down at him, but his face was hidden by a pile of blankets and her look was wasted.

From the other side, however, Percy was waking up as well, and he was faster to comprehend this news than Nico was. "Did I hear about Thalia and a dress?" came the voice, saying so much too loudly, as the green-eyed boy sat upright to peer at the Huntress from his "bed".

Thalia gave him the coldest glare she could manage. "No, you did not," she said adamantly. "Now go back to sleep before I knock you out myself."

Unfortunately, Nico heard that. The blankets were quickly pushed aside as he, too, sat up to stare at Thalia. "Is that right? You're gonna wear a dress?"

"Whoever said 'dress' next is gonna be dead before breakfast," Thalia threatened, perplexed with the obvious excitement the news that she was going to wear a dress was causing. Why were they so eager? Nonetheless, she was bored to death and _would_ be incline to kill should they–

"Hey, Thalia."

"What?" Thalia turned to the direction of the door. Percy was standing there, his back to her and holding something in his hands. Drego stood in front of him, looking rather pleased.

Percy turned around and held up what he was holding. He grinned cheekily. "This _is_ a nice dress."

In a second, Thalia's hunting knife was drawn, the blade gleaming in the sunlight that was pouring into the room. Percy threw the dress down and made a break for his life, pushing past Drego with a hurried apology, Thalia close on his heels, screaming bloody murder and other Greek curses that hadn't been used since Hercules's times.

Drego followed the pair, trying to calm them down, but bursts of the hobbit's laughter could be heard from time to time. Soon the ruckus died down to only angry yelling and loud chuckles instead of that _plus_ the sound of furniture breaking.

Left alone in the room, Nico walked to where Percy had discarded the dress and picked it up, examining it with a critical eye. "Pretty nice," he muttered at length. "But I think she would probably hate it more had she actually _looked_ at it properly." Yawning and stretching, the son of Hades walked out of the room, one ear strained on the sounds of battle. No use getting involved in a Huntress's tantrum _this_ early in the morning.

"Come!" Drego's voice drowned out the arguing voices at last. "We have visitors. Come into my room, all of you. I have prepared clothes for you."

0o0o0o0o0

It was fortunate that Thalia never _did_ see the dress properly. The neckline was low enough that the top part of her bosom would have been showing. Invitingly. And it was designed to be tight. Had she seen it, Drego would never be able to introduce clothes to her ever again. Thalia despised dresses, and she couldn't bear the sight of _showy_ dresses.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have sworn not to do Romance mainly because I have no idea what I'm talking about, but I think I could manage a small mention of it. I hope I got Thalia right. Damn, but she's so hard to characterize. So was Nico, actually, and I'm on unsteady grounds with Percy. But this is more of a learning experience. I posted it here in hope that somebody could see where I need improvements. Thank you all for reading and bearing with me.

Man, I'm dying for some action now. Yeah, probably gonna kick it up to gear next chapter or the one after that...

Until then, who's interested in seeing Thalia in a dress?


	4. Between Hobbits and HalfBloods

_A word of warning: before you scroll all the way down after the first few lines and attempt to flame me or say rude things in a very respectful way (I know you can manage it), please be assured that I have my reasons. Or, if you are impatient, scroll all the way down anyway and read the thing at the bottom. Be warned of spoilers, though._

_**Chapter 4 - Between Hobbits and Half-Bloods**_

"Percy, if you _dare_ to make a sound…"

"I'm not laughing," Percy replied quickly. And he wasn't. He was standing there trying to ignore the itchy shirt that had been given to him. These Renaissance-style clothes were a lot more uncomfortable than he'd thought when he first looked at them. In fact, if he was involved in a fight, Percy was worried he would have to stop and scratch himself between attacks. That would be the twenty-first stupidest thing he'd ever done in his life, not that he would get killed or anything. His little swim in the Styx wasn't his happiest memory, but Percy appreciated the outcome.

Although _why_ he was itchy was a strange thing. Didn't the invincible-demigod-magical-bath thing cover that, too?

And there was nothing to laugh about. The Hunter in front of him was, in fact, quite good-looking. Not that he'd ever tell her that, of course. She was going to strangle him until he died. He might have invincibility on his side, but she had immortality.

Suspicious silence answered to this.

"Really," Percy said in what he thought was a reassuring tone. "You look fine. And no one's really gonna care except for us, remember? It's just part of mixing in. You don't have a choice."

Thalia sighed harshly and leaned back on the boulder behind her, crossing her arms. "Percy, if someone knows something, it's definitely going to leak out. You can't stop it no matter how hard you try, trust me. And seeing as we're demigods, maybe even the gods would get it going about this…this…this abomination." She glared down at her clothes. Then her face fell. "How in Zeus am I going to gather the courage to face the Hunt again after this?"

"Deny everything," Nico's voice spoke up from her left. He was looking at her with a slight grin on his face, seated on a boulder with his arms draped loosely around one bent leg. "It's called lying, you know. Everyone lies. It's nothing surprising or unexpected."

Immediately, Thalia's look turned into one of pure hatred. "Don't even _talk_ to me, _boy_!" she snapped, and there was a crackle of electricity in the air.

Nico shrugged, unperturbed. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves – more than we already did, anyway. This isn't our time, and people from this time could be hostile to strangers. If you remember, the hobbit folks around here didn't exactly welcome us with smiles and open arms."

Thalia ignored everything coming out of the boy's mouth. "You lied to me," she accused. "And now you're telling me to do the same? No thanks! Unlike _you_, I don't lie to my friends."

"I wasn't lying," the son of Hades said mildly, resting his chin on his knee. "I just didn't tell the whole truth. That didn't make it a lie. A half-truth is still truth." He paused, then nodded at the Hunter. "And Percy was right. You're not ugly in that dress. You didn't even look awkward at all."

If he was hoping to eradicate some of that hatred (which Percy doubted very much), Nico didn't quite succeed. Instead, Thalia's eyes flared, and there was a _twang_ of a small lightning bolt being shot away. Percy straightened in alarm, his hand already going to his pocket in case his friends really broke into a fight even when the sensible portion of his mind informed that it would be impossible. He would probably turn it into a three-way fight. But he _was_ more temperamental than Thalia and he wasn't on her bad books, so maybe…

As it turned out, there was no need. A Stygian sword seemed to have just materialize in Nico's hand, absorbing the lightning. He and Thalia stared at each other for a few seconds, then Nico lowered his sword and sighed, letting it shrink back into a black mechanical pencil.

"Look," he said, adorning the tone of a petulant child's father trying to be reasonable. "I don't like these things we're wearing either. This shirt is _itchy_, and if you'll take notice, it's two sizes too big." He held up his arm for emphasis. It was rolled up twice so that his hand was fully visible. "And for the life of me I can't understand why they make me wear the prickly shirt underneath and the silky one outside. But we have to. Until we can get out of here, it's best we don't do anything to look suspicious. Several hobbits I can handle, but I really don't want to think of the scenario where I have to summon a battalion of zombies to press this entire Hobbiton place back."

Miraculously, the ferocious fire in Thalia's eyes seemed to die down a little bit. She leaned back, obviously sulking and tugging on the navy floor-length dress that she was wearing. _Formerly_ floor-length anyway. As soon as she'd got it on, Thalia had gone off into the woods and torn it off so that it was only to her ankles. That was where Percy and Nico had found her, muttering to herself in a shallow ravine and cursing in English, Greek and even a bit of French. She had also opted to wear her black turtleneck underneath and kept her combat boots.

Silence ruled as the three wayward demigods let their attention wander. Whatever this place was, Percy thought, looking at the sky through the green foliages above them, it was peaceful. For once, he could feel his awareness slipping, and he didn't really mind. There was no monster here. The usual unexplainable hum he'd lived with back in Manhattan was gone. Instead, there was only silent tranquility.

That brought him to another question. Percy sat up. "Nico, did you remember where we are?"

Nico glanced at him, then at Thalia, seeming as though he was contemplating how much he should let them know. "Oh, no," the Hunter said warningly. "The truth, the _whole_ truth and nothing but the truth this time, zombie boy."

"Fine," Nico said, a touch of annoyance in his voice. "But I won't lie about this anyway. We're in Middle-Earth."

Two pairs of eyes stared at him, obviously confused.

"It's a fictional world, created by a man called J.R.R. Tolkien," Nico elaborated. "There're a series of books about it, called _Lord of the Rings_. It was published some seventy years ago, and it's still famous today. Either way, to put it simply, we're in a place that shouldn't have existed at all." He looked down at the ground as though he was trying to see if it was an illusion or not. "It talked about a Ring with great power that was supposed to be destroyed and a small company trying to get rid of it. That's the main focus."

"So you're saying we're in a _book_?" Thalia summarized dubiously.

"Yeah. I don't know what time we're in, but 'long as we stay here, we're safe. The War of the Ring – that's what the war was called – shouldn't reach the Shire, if Lynda was right."

While Percy thought about this, Thalia perked up at the mentioned name. "Who's Lynda?" she asked, then suddenly her expression turned into a leer. "No way…Our Nico got himself a girlfriend?"

Nico's eye twitched. "No! She's _not_ my girlfriend, so you can stop looking at me like that. She's just a mortal who helped me out when I was injured during a quest," he said, his voice unusually harsh. "She's a huge nut about all this _Lord of the Rings_ stuff, so I got stuck listening to it when I came over to visit." When Thalia's face showed no sign of returning to normal, Nico just rolled his eyes and sat back on the boulder. "But that's that. Yeah, we're in somewhere we aren't supposed to be."

"Duh," Thalia rolled her eyes.

"Is this Tolkien guy a half-blood?" Percy asked thoughtfully.

Nico shook his head. "Never heard of him till Lynda rubbed the books in my face. Haven't seen his ghost in the Fields of Asphodel, though, and the few times I paid visit to the Field of Punishment, he wasn't there either."

The Hunter blinked. "He was in Elysium, then?"

Nico shrugged. "I don't know. There's not a lot of people there, but there's a lot of space. Besides, it's kinda hard to search for someone there unless you know specifically who you're looking for. I had no reason to go looking for an author." He left out the part where his friend had nagged him endlessly to pull the ghost up so she could personally chat with him. Sometimes Nico regretted showing her that summon-the-dead trick.

Percy scratched his head. "Great. At least we know where we are. Now we can focus about how to get _out_ of here." He looked at Nico quizzically. "Can't you summon some of the dead and talk to them or something? Maybe then they can connect with our time or camp, and they can figure out what all this is about."

Nico tapped his chin. "I've thought of that, but I'm really not sure. We're not on Earth here, so I don't know if it would affect my ability to summon the dead or not. But I've been planning. Maybe tonight or something. And we need a hole."

"A grave, you mean," Thalia said, irritatingly tugging at the dress as though she would be able to rip it off if she kept doing that and get rid of it forever. The latter part was pure fiction, but nobody doubted the former.

The dark-eyed boy nodded, unperturbed by Thalia's tone. "So do you guys want to help or what?" he inquired, glancing from one of his friends to another. "The sooner we get this over with, the better. I don't know about you, but I miss my jeans and my shirt. Looks like skull t-shirts aren't on sale here in the Shire."

Percy sighed, pushing himself to stand straight. He stretched, feeling the itchiness again. That was starting to be really, he thought as he started after Thalia and Nico, who was halfway up the shallow slope already. This made Percy wonder if Achilles still had Hades with the mosquitoes of that time or not, because if he didn't, that would be totally unfair and Percy would like to complain against the Styx.

Take that. Even magical Greek rivers don't give you protection against itchy shirts. Darn.

0o0o0o0o0

Nico gestured for them to stop. "That would be deep enough," he clarified.

With a long sigh, Thalia leaned on her shovel handle, wiping away the sweat beads on her forehead. Morning had come and gone, leaving the midday sun to glare down at them with all its might. The only thing she wanted to do right now was to hide in the shades of one of those giant oak trees just next to them over near the forest and wait until the heat dies down, then come in for dinner. She didn't often have lunch, mostly because the Hunters frequently moved from one place to another, and so lunch was usually just a light snack of something they were having on hand.

Opposite of her, across the six-by-twelve-feet grave, Percy was having his eyes on the stable in the distance. They've chosen a spot close to Drego's house for the grave but hidden closely by bushes so that people looking at it from a distance couldn't notice that it was there while still making it visible when they were close enough to fall in. Thus, the hobbit's house and stable were all in sight, even the well and a corner of the small garden he kept behind the house.

He tilted his head and frowned. Something wasn't right. The horse (what was her name again?) was whinnying. Percy glanced at the other two to gauge their reactions and found that they have also straightened, puzzlement clear on their faces before it started to shift into dark doubt. Wordlessly, they exchanged glances before starting to head for the stable.

Suddenly, the thoughts and the panic slammed into Percy's mind, knocking the breath out of him and making him drop the spade he was holding, his hands going to his head as he recoiled from the mental blow.

_They come!_ the mare screeched, her terror vibrating through him. _They come! They are close! Black shadows. Foul. FOUL! DANGER!_ In his mind, Percy could picture the whites of her eyes showing, the mare bucking and thrashing in her fright, trying to break out of her prison to run free from this threat. Something was close by that posed immense danger to her, and the horse's animal instinct had kicked in. She wanted to bolt, but she was restrained, and she knew it. It only made it worse.

The whinnying intensified. Percy opened his eyes, dazed, to find Nico running toward the stable and Thalia next to him, her hand on his shoulder and worry painted on her face. "I'm fine," he breathed, his hand going to his breeches' pocket. "The horse," Percy managed. "Something scared her."

His friend nodded grimly. "_Terrorizing_ might be the better word," she said as they quickly chased after Nico, who had by then disappeared into the stable. "C'mon. If that horse's really as insane as it's sounding, then you might be the only one with a chance of calming it."

When they arrived, Percy found that Thalia was correct. Nico was standing back, his face taut and uncertain while the mare jumped around in her stall, slamming against its sides violently in her attempt to escape. It was clear why Nico had hung back: he didn't know what would happen if he released the animal. She would most likely trample them all to death or run herself into the ground without even noticing it.

"Hey!" Percy cried, striding toward the mare. She paid him no heed. Instead, the terror he'd been feeling through the psychic bond between him and any horse only doubled, marking the beginning of a mild case of migraine. When he was close enough to undo the lock, her head swiveled to him and her blunt but powerful teeth went for his hair. Percy instinctively ducked out of the way as fast as he could. He might be invincible, but nobody said his hair wouldn't be yanked out by crazed creations of his dad. He simply didn't want to chance it.

It obviously wasn't going to work if he just stood there and try to calm the thing, which was growing more hysterical by the minute. He had little options left but to try a new strategy he'd thought of but had never used before. Percy was fifty percent sure it would work and fifty percent only, but in this emergency, he was sure it was worth it.

Percy stepped back from the mare, closing his eyes. He concentrated on the bond between them, much like he'd often concentrated his will when manipulating power. This time, instead of moving his power _into_ the connection, he pushed his feelings into it: memories of feelings. Percy called up happier times, when he was with his mother, the peacefulness of the night when he was sitting alone under the stars with Annabeth, or the memory of having someone close by when Nico or Thalia dropped in for a visit.

And so he kept it flowing; gallons and gallons of calmness into the connection, feeling it mingled with the horse's fear, not drowning it out but becoming one with it, made it fade away, until there was nothing left but tranquility for them both.

Percy opened his eyes, one hand stretching out to brace himself against the stall's door. He felt strangely dizzy, but his knees weren't weak and he wasn't exhausted like when he used his powers. He just felt…disconnected. Like he wasn't himself. Like he was staring at _him_ from another's point of view. And what was this strange urge he had for sugar cubes and apples–?

"Good job," Thalia said, and her voice pulled him back to the present. He looked over his shoulder only to find her right next to him again. Nico flanked his left while she on his right, and Thalia undid the lock as Nico helped him right himself.

"You okay?" the younger boy asked.

"Yeah," Percy replied dazedly. "Just…dizzy, I suppose." He focused on the mare, who was only whinnying softly now, afraid but no longer terrified. "And you. What's up with you?"

She neighed nervously. _The shadows. They're so close. Dangerous. It's so cold_. The whites of her eyes showed again, her hysteric returning. She stamped her feet, snorting loudly.

Percy gave her another douse of that mental-sedate thingy and held onto her bit as she calmed down. He could _feel_ her fear fading, he thought. That was strange. Even Blackjack, his favorite black pegasus back at camp, hadn't felt like this.

The mare nudged his hand, and Percy placed it against her cheek. She snorted, contented, tossing her head. _Do you have a sugar cube?_ she asked mildly.

_Sorry. This is a surprise visit._ Percy thought about asking the mare again about what made her so scared, but then thought better of it. Besides, she'd already answered him. He knew what it was – or bits of it, at least. It was better than nothing, he supposed.

Percy cocked his head to the door. "Conference time."

Once they were out of the stable, Nico glanced at the mare inside. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Dunno. She said something about black shadows approaching, and it being foul." Percy remembered something else. "And she said…She said it was dangerous. And cold."

Thalia glanced up at the sky. The autumn day was as warm as it could get this late into the year. "A monster, then?" she suggested, her voice dropping an octave as the silver quiver materialized on her back while the other gripped her bow tightly. Her face was taut.

"I don't know," Percy shook his head. "I mean, I haven't heard of shadows being cold and dangerous." Although _why_ was the strange thing; those descriptions had a nice sound to it. Hadn't anyone thought of making monsters with those standards?

Nico glanced into the stable, where the mare was tossing her head and snorting. "The last time I heard something described like that is Thanatos, the Reaper. I seriously doubt it's him, though. I would've been able to feel him had been anywhere a mile around here."

Thalia crossed her arms, her face still dark like a thundercloud. "So what? Are we going to stand here and wait till it's close enough for us to punch it?" she demanded. There was a dangerous edge in her voice, much like Zeus's when Percy was attending the council right after the Second Titan War. Despite what she wanted to think, Thalia had more of her father in her than she could ever admit.

The way Thalia put it made standing aside and ignoring the threat sound like a sin, but Percy's mind was on the same track. He stood, one hand rested against the frame of the stable house, thinking. She had a point, he had to admit. Threats never went away when you ignored them, instead growing several times as worse. If they were lucky, that was. And besides, they would need to check if this was related to their unexpected journey to this…Middle-Earth place. They needed to find a way back.

"She can lead us there," Percy suggested, gesturing toward the mare's stall. Her ears pricked, and she turned to hee-haw at them excitedly. Her fear seemed to have vanished, a low and almost undetectable undercurrent in Percy's mind. Wait till she hears the request, he thought glumly.

Nico nodded in agreement. "You're right. We need to check this thing out before it comes here and runs this entire place down," he said. "Thalia?"

Thalia huffed. "Well, I guess killing something would get some stress off me. And I want to see how much _this_ –" she gestured at her dress – "could limit my movement." She glanced at the house standing not thirty feet from them. "But what of Drego? Should someone talk to him? I mean, we can't just vanish _and_ take his horse with us."

"Sure we can," the son of Hades said nonchalantly. "As long as we come back before sundown, it should be fine. And the thing can't be _that_ far away, can't it? After all, the horse sensed it." He glanced at the horse in question. She neighed as he looked at her, almost inquiringly.

So that was that. Now there was another unimportant little thing to take care of: how to get the horse to lead them there.

0o0o0o0o0

_C'mon, nice horsie,_ Percy coaxed, dousing the mare with a river of calmness – or the memory of it. Despise his best effort, she neighed in protest and turned her head away, her fear nearly overriding his own consciousness. Percy pulled back quickly from the link, the beginning sparks of frustration making him tighten his grip unconsciously.

_I can't_, she thought to him, pulling away. _It's too close. Cold. So cold. It's dangerous! You must run, too._

_Look,_ Percy replied. _Just a little bit closer, okay? When we're a quarter of a mile away from him, I'll let you go. Deal?_

Apparently not. The horse let out a terrified cry and started to pull harder, her front feet kicking at him. Percy quickly backed out of the way, being careful to keep the rein in his grip. Whatever it was out there, she must be really frightened of it, he thought. He'd never seen an animal this hysteric, and with a pet hellhound on his hand along with Paul Blofis's newly-adopted half-crazed poodle, that was quite something.

"How close are we?" Thalia asked, one hand holding her bow while the other resting on the hilt of her hunting knife. Her eyes were bright and wary.

"Panicky horses don't often answer your questions," Percy grunted. _Calm down, okay? Hey! Just tell us how close we are and what direction we have to take, and then I'll let you go. C'mon, there's a good horse. Tell us._ He finally managed to calm her enough so that he was not in the danger of being kicked to the ground by her powerful legs. Nico, bringing up the rear, gave him a slightly accusing look.

She snorted and tossed her head. _There,_ the mare said reluctantly, turning her head so as to look straight ahead. _If I gallop, then it would take double the amount of time it takes for Master to groom me._

Horse unit of time had always been confusing, and Percy furrowed his brow at this. What would that be? How was he supposed to know how long Drego took to groom the animal, and how far was it exactly? Ten minutes? Thirty? An hour? There was no telling. But the deal was already completed, and Percy had to keep his end of the bargain. Reluctantly, he let the rein go.

The second it slipped from his hand, the mare turned and shot through the forest, nearly hitting Thalia in the way. She cursed and stumbled aside, but was otherwise unhurt. "What was _that_ about?" she grunted, looking at Percy. "I hope you got something?"

Percy pointed directly behind him. "Somewhere over that way." He skipped the rest of the quote. They didn't need to know that. "Well? Are we going or what?"

"I'm not trusting a horse for directions," Nico said quite blatantly as he walked past Percy. "But we don't have much of an option around here. So yeah, let's go see if it pointed us in the right path or not." With that, he brushed apart the bushes and disappeared behind them. It had been more than two hours since they left the house, most of that time taken up to calm the hysteric animal. Nico was weary, exasperated and in desperate need of a nap or something of the like. It was best they get this over with quickly, while he could still lift his sword.

Behind him, Thalia followed his lead, trailed by Percy, who muttered under his breath, "It's a _she_!"

They walked. And walked. _And_ walked. Still nothing changed except for a few bushes and trees. One time, they spotted a large corn field and a tiny silhouette of a hobbit house, but that was about it. It seemed as if the forest would stretch on forever. Actually, forget forever. If it was only a little while longer, all three would probably drop dead from the sheer boredom of it. Yet nobody spoke. They walked tensely and their shoulders were hunched, preparing to fight. When you were walking into a fight, you don't let your attention wander, no matter how briefly. As demigods, they _knew_ how it felt to be under a surprise attack.

As Percy would put it, _sucky_.

But their ADHD could only take it for so long. After what felt like forever, Percy finally succumbed to the need of tension reliever. "This really sucks," he mumbled under his breath, his hand in his pocket, closed tightly around Riptide, his ballpoint pen slash killer three-foot-long Celestial sword.

"Tell me about it," Thalia grunted. She hated stake-out missions with a passion, mainly because it forced her to sit still. Having to travel in absolute quietness for such a long period of time also grated on her patience.

Just then, Nico stopped. Only Thalia's reflex saved her from stumbling into his back. The Hunter bit back a disgruntled and scathing comment as the dark-eyed boy turned to glance at her over his shoulder, one finger tapping his ear. _Scatter,_ he mouthed.

Without hesitation, all three turned and ran their own way. Percy dived behind a boulder while Thalia pressed herself against a tree trunk, her ears open. Nico took refuge with the bushes, letting their dark leaves conceal him. Absolute silence reigned.

And then it was shattered. From somewhere to Percy's left, just the way where they've come from, came noisy footsteps and shouting. Then four petite shadows burst into view, their large and hairy feet (blurry, too) trampling on the forest floor as they made a break for it. Thalia shifted behind her tree to better hide herself from view, but even if she'd been standing right in their path, they would probably not have noticed her. They were simply too absorbed in their own escapade for that.

As the Fates would have it, the hobbits hadn't come alone. Ferocious barking could be heard in the distance, along with loud, angry yelling, both drawing closer. The half-bloods paused for a single moment before leaping up to follow the four hobbits. Hobbits could be reasoned with and explained to. Mad dogs, sadly, could not. And the last thing all three needed was to invoke someone and cause trouble to their host.

Just like before, the hobbits didn't seem to realize that there were three others accompanying them in their little run. They covered a good distance, each for their own, before the lead hobbit, one with curly dark hair instead of blond hair like the rest, stopped so suddenly his companions bumped into him and all four stumbled down the small rocky overhang where they've ended up at. Their tagalongs paused long enough to save themselves from the same fate.

The demigods stood looking down at the ungraceful groaning heap beneath them. After a few moments, one of them rolled away, groaning. Another next to him spat dirt onto the ground. "Something broke!" another one announced, then sat up straight and held up something orange he'd been lying on top of. A carrot. "Oh, blast it!" he moaned.

It was Thalia who called out the name. "Merry?"

Four curly head swiveled to them. Percy and Nico glanced at Thalia questioningly. "I met them in the woods yesterday night," she explained before turning back to the hobbits. "And that one over there's…Pippin, isn't it?"

"It is an honor to be remembered by you, my fair lady!" the one identified as Pippin cried.

Thalia's eye twitched, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned away to find a less violent way to climb down the tiny overhang of rock. Percy glanced at Nico, shrugging, before following her. If Thalia had trusted them, he didn't see why he shouldn't. And it wasn't like he was afraid or anything. The best they could do was to mob them, and in that case Nico would probably scare the living daylight out of them with a zombie mob of his own.

When they reached them, all the hobbits were on their feet. The two known as Merry and Pippin grinned sheepishly at Thalia, then dropped into sweeping bows, saying in unison, "At your service!"

"Since when did she start collecting loving fanboys?" Nico asked out of the corner of his mouth. Percy hid his laugh with a cough.

"Nothing's broken?" he asked, choosing to address the immediate problem as a welcoming message. Much better than "Hi, my name is…" for sure. They did that in kindergarten, and Percy was well aware no matter how short these hobbits were, they were probably older or the same age as him.

"Yes, thank you," the dark-haired one huffed, an exasperated look on his face as the other unnamed blond hobbit brushed his clothes furiously. "Honestly, Sam! I am quite alright now. Truly!" He gently disentangled himself. "Take care of yourself first."

The unnamed hobbit opened his mouth to protest, but that was when his friend noticed the newcomers. His eyes widened in surprise, then something flickered in them. It was so fast Percy was hard-pressed to identify it, but he guessed it was suspicion and a touch of fear. However, it died away as he glanced at Merry and Pippin and saw their broad smile.

"Merry, Pippin, you know these people?" he asked.

"Why yes, Frodo!" Merry grinned at him. He gestured toward Thalia. "Allow me, Miss Thalia. This is the extraordinary Big Folk lady I have been telling you about."

Frodo, too, bowed courteously. Thalia just stood there with her face guarded, obviously not knowing how to react to such a scenario. Behind her, Nico whispered softly, "You are supposed to curtsey!" Her foot shot backward with remarkable speed and struck him in the sin with enough force to mimic a wooden baseball bat. While Nico bit back some very bad curses, the hobbit, now turned to Percy.

"Percy Jackson," the half-blood said quickly, holding up his hand to ward away the bow that was sure to come. "It's nice to meet you…Frodo."

The hobbit smiled and opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly his features twisted into a mask of pure terror and whatever that was supposed to come out turned into a soft gasp. "Hide!" he cried, jumping toward the small cave-thing a tall tree provided, pulling the still-unnamed hobbit with him. "Hide, quickly!"

With a start, Percy recognized the fear as being identical to the horse's, but that was about as much thinking time as he had. He instinctively obeyed Frodo's warning. There was no harm in hiding, but there were too many in the opening. Nico and Thalia went after him, along with Merry and Pippin after a short moment of shock. They squeezed into the small hiding place, trying to find enough space for themselves without pushing anyone else out, a task twice as hard as it originally sounded, especially in somewhere so small.

However, half-bloods were nothing if not adaptable and flexible. Soon they were all jammed in, hidden from view.

Just in time, as there was the sound of hoof beats coming down the path just above them.

And along with it, a dark sense of dread.

* * *

_For the nice fans of the movies, cheers. This story is obviously following them. But a word to the Ye Olde book lovers: I am going to use information from _both _the books and movie. Originally, this story was intended to follow the book. However, since Merry and Pippin appeared in the last chapter (who, in Fellowship of the Rings, was supposed to be long gone with Frodo down Crickhollow - and no exciting chase of Halloween-dressed monsters either), so it can't be logical if I suddenly teleport the lot several miles away from their original place. Thalia did not walk that far._

_However, after the encounter with the wraith and the ferry ride, I intend to follow the book. That means Tom Bombadil, Glorfindel, the twins and the lot of those who didn't make the movie will show up._

_As another announcement, expect a new chapter soon. This one I've had lots of prewritings and readily-uploaded chapters. No need to fear._

_Prepare for action in the next chapter. I'm so sick of the pre-phase already. All in the name of pacing._


	5. Rising the Stakes

_**Chapter 5 - Rising the Stakes**_

The noise stopped right next to their hiding spot. Next to him, Percy could feel Nico tensing. Thalia, who was pressed against the wall (and currently shooting murderous glares at the lot of them) followed suit. She had vaporized her bow and quiver to provide more space, and now was trapped with Pippin on top of her and Nico's hair in her face. The only ones who could move then was Percy, Frodo and the hobbit who had yet to be introduced. Somehow Percy doubted the latter two knew how to fight.

He sent a prayer up to all the gods who were listening that it was just some random guy passing by as he headed to his destination, but that was unlikely. The tight feeling in his gut helped Percy identify that this…_creature_…was no simple man. It was the exact feeling he had when he'd faced down Kampê, or when he fought with the Titan Atlas, when he still didn't have his invincibility. It was the instinctive but sure knowledge that he couldn't win against this thing so easily.

_I could just imagine what Clarisse would say,_ Percy thought grumpily as his mind, like always, wandered off topic. However, that was as much as he could manage before a metal-clad hand suddenly clamped down on the tree's root, several inches from Frodo's head. The hobbit jerked back, his eyes wide in fear. The darkness within Percy rose in giant tsunamis, threatening to crash down.

With surprising self-control, he held it back. Panicking never helped anyone. Besides, he was curious as well. He might not have faced anything like this, but it was good that he had at least a general idea as to what it is.

A hooded head suddenly followed the hand. Percy's heart missed a beat as it turned right to him, looking at him. But then it turned away as though he wasn't there at all, instead sniffing the air like an animal. Then slowly, so very painstakingly slowly, it turned to look at where Frodo was. Percy followed its gaze and saw that the hobbit was white in the face, holding his shaking hands in front of him.

In one of those hands was a golden band. A ring.

The hobbit's friend's hand suddenly snaked out and grabbed his wrist. Frodo started, as though awakened from a dream. While he blinked at the nameless hobbit, Percy figured out a better idea. Right beneath him, immobile, was Pippin. And on his waist, a bag.

Percy snatched it off the hobbit's belt and tossed it the way the creature had come from. The pouch landed somewhere far in the bushes, making rustling noises and instantly drawing the thing's attention. With an inhuman shriek, the creature vanished, climbed onto its horse and shot for the place where the pouch had landed.

The moment he was gone, Nico rolled onto the ground soundlessly, motioning for them to come with him. They crawled away, keeping out of view as much as possible until they reached the relative safety of some trees. Only then did they straighten, the half-bloods exchanging meaningful glances while the hobbits brushed themselves off the second time in the last twenty minutes. Pippin turned to Percy indignantly.

"Why must you throw away the mushroom, of all things?" he demanded.

"Pippin!" Merry scolded. "It's better the mushroom than us all. Did you _see_ that thing?"

"I need not see it," his friend retorted, his face contorting in regret. "But why the _mushroom_…?"

Thalia butted in. "Let's go," she said, her voice steely. It was the voice of one who was used to taking charge. "We've got to move quickly before that thing, whatever the Tartarus it was, catches up to us. Do you have any particular safe location in mind?"

Merry and Pippin looked at Frodo hesitantly, as though they didn't know if they should say anything or not. The dark-haired hobbit glanced at these new members in their group. "We are heading for the Ferry," he said, still somewhat dazed. "If you would want to come along, then perhaps you may accompany us until then."

"Sounds great," Percy agreed. "As long as it's away from that thing."

"And what is the Tartarus?" Pippin piped up.

0o0o0o0o0

So there they were, an odd company of seven walking across the forest at nearly jogging speed. The three demigods led, though it was Merry who knew the way. For the hobbits, it was the first time they've seen some of the Big Folk moving, and their pace staggered them. Thalia insisted they got away as far as they could, and none of them opposed it. However, hobbits were made for hard journeys, not a long _and_ fast one, but they pushed through.

There was an unspoken concurrence between Percy, Thalia and Nico that they shouldn't return to Drego's house. That creature might know how to smell as well as hear if it really couldn't see a thing. It was stupid for them to run back to the old hobbit leading that thing. If it came down to fighting, Percy himself wasn't sure how to handle this new threat. Sure, he could figure that out when he was fighting, but he'd rather not.

It was an effin' long trip, that was all Percy knew. As they walked, they got a few conversations going. Nico was, as always, quiet and preferred to hang back from the crowd. Thalia seemed to have enough talking to boys for that day, so it was Percy who ended up doing all the chatting. The hobbits were on a quest, Merry (Brandybuck) said. They needed to get to the Ferry, which _was_ a ferry (and on Percy's persistent request, confirmed by Merry as a real ferry – which is the wooden platform that floats – and not something else). That was where they were all going.

The other hobbit who constantly fussed over Frodo and calling them all misters (miss, in the case of Thalia) was called Sam. He was a good deal suspicious about these demigods who practically popped out of thin air, but seemed at peace with his master's judgment – he was Frodo's gardener – and his friends'. Even so, it was impossible for Percy not to feel his stare drilling holes in him the entire way. Not that he blamed him or anything. If it was Percy, he would've probably threatened the newcomers at sword point. Just in case.

And so they kept walking. And walking. _And_ walking. In time, Percy no longer noticed the change in the scenery. What was there to change? Where that fern went instead of there? Hardly important. He wasn't a hunter or an expert tracker – and there was something else to worry about.

Chill crept up his spine like an extra long and extra cold centipede. Percy fought the urge to shiver, but unconsciously, his hand was already halfway into his pocket, Riptide just within his grip. He knew that feeling, and that was what troubled him. They were being hunted.

Percy glanced quickly at Nico. The dark-eyed boy was working with his shoulders slightly hunched, his hands casually by his side, close to his pocket. Nico answered the son of Poseidon with a quick, almost undetectable nod. He knew that, too. Percy turned to Thalia. The Hunter's shoulders were tense.

We would never make it, he realized, dread coiling tightly in his stomach like a snake about to strike. The thing was on our trail, and it was having no trouble finding us. Not that it was a surprise, really. It was a miracle that they've gotten this far without the thing jumping down on them.

Behind him, the hobbits still chattered away lightly, although their tones were slightly strained. They've sensed it as well. Not as clearly or defined, but they should have a faint idea about the entire situation. Something bad was about to happen. Something very bad. And Percy had no choice but to face it.

To make it worse, the sun was sinking. In his experience, bad things operated in the dark. Percy was gifted with many things, but super sight was not one of them. Nico had the ability to sense things in the shadow, so he was fine. Thalia being a Hunter would probably listen to sounds and use movements as her guide. He, however, would be more or less sitting duck. Defense-wise, he was all right, but what he feared was that his sword would hit the hobbits. Celestial bronze would pass right through mortals, but technically hobbits weren't mortals…

"Is it me, or is this place getting colder?" Pippin complained from the back.

It wasn't just him. Percy's breath was a cloud of mist. Thalia picked up her dress and nearly doubled her speed, sending them all into a frenzy to keep up with her. She was almost running now, and Percy found that he very much wanted to draw his sword and keep it close. The centipede on his spine have now started to wriggle those little legs. Goosebumps rose on his arms. He'd known this feeling before. Kampê. But much, _much_ darker. And colder.

That was it. Percy's hand reached into his pocket and gripped Riptide. He pulled it out, uncapped it and lowered it in one smooth motion. The Celestial bronze blade came into existence, casting a warm soft light in the dark.

Surprised and awed gasps erupted from behind him. "Magic," someone breathed. Pippin. He sounded fascinated. Frodo and Sam turned back, staring at the sword with goggle eyes. Obviously they didn't have magic pens that turned into swords here either, Percy thought. That was one invention copyrighted to Greek demigods.

"It's here!" Nico shouted.

No sooner did he say it than the thundering of hooves reach them. "Run!" Thalia cried helpfully. Percy doubled his speed, but kept half a mind at the hobbits behind him and Frodo and Sam in front. Nico brought up the rear. Percy could hear the boy urging the hobbits to hurry up.

After a few minutes of running (and the hooves now just _yards_ behind them), Percy could hear running water. "River up ahead!" he yelled.

"How further?" Thalia shouted back. Percy realized there was still nothing but a lot of trees in front of them. He could spot large bodies of water from far away. Of course.

Percy calculated as he ran. "Half a mile!" he concluded.

"Oh great!" Nico called from behind. Somehow, even in that situation, the boy's comment contained enough sarcasm to sting.

An inhuman, frustrated screeching came from behind. It sounded like a hysteric mutant crow. Percy hoped it _was_ simply a crow. But then again, as in their world, nothing was just _simply_ that. There just had to be deeper, freakier stories that he _really_ didn't want to know. Often, knowing something means you're going to get into trouble for that knowledge.

Once, Merry tripped on a tree root, but Nico quickly snatched his arm and helped him straighten. There was no time for thanks, however. The thundering hooves were so very close now. None of them wanted to stop for luxuries. There was a time for formalities later. If – _if_ – they managed to survive, that is. Percy hoped there really was a time like that without anyone dead.

They somehow made it all the way to the river without the thing actually snagging one of their shirt collars. Now they could see the river Merry was talking about in sight, and so was the ferry, tied to a pair of stakes on the dock. Percy wanted to relax, but he knew it wasn't the right time. If he so much as slowed down now, he was as good as gone. In his life, nothing was for certain until it was two or three good years behind you.

Even here, Percy could feel the presence of the river keenly. It called out to him, beckoning him to hurry into its domain, so that he could be safe. Most rivers did that. He guessed his status as a son of the Sea God applied here, nonetheless. But he wasn't allowed much time to contemplate that. The sharp shriek behind him warned of the creature on their tails.

Suddenly, there was a clash of steel. Percy stopped in his track and turned to look.

Nico was locked in a battle to the dead with the creature in the cloak. In the faint moonlight, the thing's wicked curve sword glinted. It brought the blade crashing down on Nico, but he jumped aside and swept his sword at the horse's neck. The animal neighed, automatically backpedaling to avoid the strike. And then the creature was at it again, jabbing and slicing and his horse was kicking, forcing Nico to withstand both the blows from the sword and from the hooves.

The horse was on its hind legs, bellowing. Percy automatically braced himself for the flood of thoughts that was sure to come, but there was nothing. No real _thoughts_ behind the emotional wave that hit him. Just plain frustration and wariness. That was disturbing. No matter how frenzy, there were always thoughts behind emotions. But this…this was like the horse had no mind of its own. Just very basic emotions.

A silvery arrow sailed past his head and nailed Freaky on the shoulder. It shrieked in pain, nearly dropping the curved sword it was holding. That snapped Percy out of his momentary pause. He leaped at the cloaked figure and the horse, bringing his blade up just in time to block the curved sword from slicing Nico's head in two like a watermelon.

A horse and a monster against a demigod was an automatic win-lose. However, when there were _two_ demigods against the horse and the monster, the table would most likely be turned. _Most_ likely.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

The horse, in a streak of luck, clonked Percy in the face with its hoof. Pain exploded, and his eyes turned watery with tears from a broken nose. The tangy and remembered taste of copper was on his tongue. In the time that he was blinded, Freaky, using the butt of his sword, sent Nico flying into a tree. Before Percy could recover, something that felt suspiciously like a sword's pommel slammed into his chin, knocking him into the ground.

His eyes cleared momentarily, and Percy stared up at the being and the sword in its hand. Its face was hidden in its hood even when it looked down at him. And then Percy realized something: it didn't _have_ a face. Or it was invisible.

Riptide was still in his grip. He'd managed to hang on to it. It would do him no good, however, trapped as he was between the ground and the cold blade resting right on his throat. _This is it_, Percy thought, although part of him still fought like a wild animal against the odds. He wasn't about to die here! He'd survived so many things. He'd bathed in the Styx, had won the war against the Titans…to die _here_, of all places? It wasn't even his home. What would his mother say? And he was just starting to enjoy a _real_ family.

There was a cry of rage in the distance. Four silver arrows flew toward the monster and its beast, all hitting the target. The two backed off, howling in absolute pain. _It's not invincible against Celestial steel,_ Percy thought with a start. And that was all he needed. He was on his feet again in seconds, back into demigod survival mode overdrive.

He launched sideway, ignoring the pain as he snatched Nico up by the collar and helped the still-dazed teen find his footings. "Riwer," Percy said determinedly, starting to drag Nico toward the ferry.

"Right," Nico mumbled, his eyes still misty. "Riwer. Coming."

Thalia, once she'd seen Percy up on his feet again, had whipped out her hunting knife and cut the ropes holding the ferry to the dock. "Hurry up!" she screamed, already dropping her knife and notching another arrow onto her bow. However, the creature was still preoccupied by the arrows already in its bodies and paid them no heed as the two boys shuffled toward the ferry. Their process was so torturously slow that Thalia considered shooting them to get them to hurry up. That, however, probably wouldn't contribute much to their speed.

Beneath them, the Brandywine seemed to slow down, reluctant to move at its natural speed. In fact, it was Percy who'd used his gift to prevent the river from carrying on with its normal pace, so they would not be left behind. He was too late, however, and distracted by the nearly-forgotten pain, lost his concentration. The speed returned with a vengeance, sending the ferry drifting away.

_Oh well,_ Percy thought as he stepped onto the dock. The water was mere inches away. He sent a quick prayer to his father, grabbed Nico's wrist tightly, pulling the other boy into the dark, gently-churning water.

They were under.

0o0o0o0o0

As soon as his head disappeared beneath the surface, Percy felt safer. It was his home turf – at least, sort of. It wasn't salt water or anything, but it was still water connecting to the ocean, and he knew he would be safe here.

Instead of fighting the current, Percy let himself drift along, willing the river to go a little faster behind him, propelling him and his passenger along. The wooden ferry's bottom came into sight in seconds, and Percy used a final kick to get himself closer to the craft, close enough to touch it. From there, it was a simple matter of grabbing hold of the wood and dragged himself up, then Nico along with him.

Hands grasped his arms to assist him with his climbing. "Help Nico," Percy forced out. Some of those hands disappeared while he crawled his way up to dry land, gasping from the sudden exertion. He's got to get used to it again. One year of peace have rubbed off on him. Chiron was right in forcing him through vigorous training. As always. Was that centaur ever wrong?

One hand rested on his shoulder, making Percy look up. A girl with a glowing silver aura and a tiara was staring at him, worry and relief etched simultaneously in her eyes. She looked familiar, he thought. And then, _Thalia!_

"I'm fine," he managed. His talking had returned to normal, and the broken nose had stopped bleeding. When he touched it gingerly, he found that it was probably mostly healed. Hurt like Zeus and probably still fragile, but not so flat. That was a good thing. And the dried blood had been washed off by the river water. Another good thing.

"You c-could've let me t-take my own chance with s-shadow traveling, you know," a voice muttered from next to the two. Percy and Thalia turned to see a sopping wet Nico shaking like a leaf, Frodo's and Merry's outer coats wrapped around his shoulders. He was giving Percy the harpy's evil eye, but Percy found his the corner of his mouths quirking. Nico was obviously alive and well. His body would be more than capable of fighting off the chill. Demigods don't usually catch colds. A bit of chill like this wouldn't kill his friend.

Thalia straightened, satisfied with what she's found. "Boys," she muttered for good measure. "Always getting into trouble."

Percy cocked an eyebrow at her. "Thalia," he said long-sufferingly, "I've just nearly been killed by a freaking Grim Reaper and that's the best you can come up with?"

The Hunter grinned at him. "Oh, don't be such a big baby. It's just a flattened nose –" she paused suddenly, and all humor drained from her face. "Percy, you've gotten a broken nose…"

Silence. In the moonlight, Percy's face looked like paper. And it wasn't just the effect of the light.

His invincibility was gone.

* * *

_Before you go "Percy's invincibility can't be taken away, you OOC-making b*tch!" please allow me to explain. Or, at least, give a partial answer._

_Nothing happens without a price. So, in this story, I'm speculating that the Curse of Achilles got taken away as a "safe passage" insurance. Does he get it back when he returns to New York, you ask?_

_That's my little secret._


End file.
